Eternally Grateful
by zissa
Summary: A series of short fics about Wolf and Scarlet's future, based on headcanons by mettatons-hips and I. Set post-Winter.
1. Eternally Grateful

Wolf swallowed hard, wide eyes still fixed on the squirming bundle cradled in his arms. Or the crook of one massive arm, more accurately, since that was all the space the little tyke took up, but he still felt compelled to keep the other arm firmly situated beneath her. Just in case. Babies were unpredictable creatures. He sat absolutely still in the chair adjoining Scarlet's bed, though it was an effort to keep his muscles from jumping after the surge of adrenaline involved in rushing his wife to the hospital. His very beautiful, very tired wife, who had just brought his equally beautiful (if vaguely red-faced and…well…squished) and equally exhausted daughter into the world. Wolf allowed himself one brief, incredulous shake of his head. Stars…how had he come to this?

Scarlet shouldn't have wanted him. Not since their first meeting in the tavern, not since the train, not since Paris, and most definitely not since he'd emerged from the laboratories on Luna even more of a monster than he had been when he went in. She could've had anyone she wanted when she returned to France a hero. Even _without_ her newfound fame, she could have had anyone. She was stunning in every way: her razor sharp mind, her commanding presence, her brave heart, and the obvious fact that she was the most beautiful woman on two planets. It still shocked him, even two years into life on the farm, that she _did_ want him. He smiled to himself, sliding a fond glance over at Scarlet. And that she didn't just want him for his skill with farm implements and the breadth of his shoulders. She saw the heart beneath the claws and the fangs, even when he wasn't totally sure he still had one.

He'd been unspeakably lucky on all accounts. He should have been just another operative, fighting and scrapping on that miserable hunk of rock in the sky or dispatched to Earth to wreak havoc and carnage, doomed to a life of blood and fear and rage. To darkness and death. Sitting in a cozy obstetrics suite with a bundle of new life in his arms and Scarlet at his side was never in the plan…yet here he was.

There was a faint mewling sound from the lump in his arms and it started to wriggle, tiny arms flailing free of the beautifully embroidered—a delicate pattern of wolf pups frolicking against a background of peaceful earth tones— baby blanket Winter had sent in the last shipment from Luna. The whimpering grew louder, threatening to burst into a full-blown howl. Wolf shifted forward in his chair and began to rock slowly back and forth, as he had seen Scarlet do just after the child came screaming into the world.

"Shhh, now…You're alright." He murmured, hoping the low rumble of his voice would soothe her out of her hissy fit before she woke Scarlet. Unless she was hungry again, of course. Even though Artemis Maha Kesley—Missy for short—had only made her grand entrance a few hours earlier, it was already _abundantly_ clear that food was a very serious subject for her. Wolf smiled at the mop of dark hair already tinged with red, at the wide eyes that the doctor predicted would fade to a bright green color soon. Like father, like daughter.

"What's going on?" Scarlet's voice, thick and groggy with sleep, dragged Wolf's gaze up to her face. She'd pushed herself up on her elbows to see Missy, blinking drowsily, but still entirely focused on the little sounds from the blanket bundle. Wolf rose and crossed to perch on the edge of the bed, Scarlet reaching out her arms to take the baby before the mattress had even dipped under his weight.

"Nothing too serious. Hungry again, I think."

Scarlet grinned, tired, but her eyes still dancing with amusement as she shot a glance at him. "Wonder where she gets that from."

Wolf smiled in reply, but found that he couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. His heart was swelling in his massive ribcage, something pricking at the back of his eyes as he looked at Scarlet and Missy. _His_ Scarlet. _His_ Missy. And he was theirs. What he never should've had, but was blessed with anyway. Something warm and wet trickled down his cheek.

"Oh, Ze'ev…" Scarlet reached out with her free arm and tugged, pulling him as close as she had pulled Missy. Wolf wrapped his own arms around both of them easily, letting his eyes fall shut with contentment. He may not have been destined to have all of this…but he would be eternally grateful that he did.


	2. Teeth

Wolf's brow furrowed as he turned from rinsing the last of the evening's dishes in the sink. He and Missy were on their own tonight, Scarlet being out on the town (if one could call the village an actual "town") with Emilie for their monthly girls' night. She needed the break—keeping up with a busy eight-month old was taxing, even with Scarlet and Wolf trading off with baby and farm duties—and Wolf never minded looking after his girl. He was good with kids, especially his own. It wasn't a problem. But, as he glanced across the table to where Missy was strapped into her high chair, babbling a string of nonsensical sounds and gnawing on one of the teething toys Kai and Cinder had sent in their baby shower gift, he was…concerned.

Something had caught his eye when he turned, something different, something…off. His nostrils flared, searching the air for any sign of sickness or…uh…other bodily situations that might cause a baby discomfort. Missy noticed his attention and flashed a gummy grin, throwing her chubby arms wide with a squeal. Normal enough, but—

Wait.

Was…was that a _tooth?_

"What've you got there, pup?" Wolf crossed the kitchen in a few long strides, a smile tugging at his lips as he dropped into the chair adjoining the high chair and leaned in for a closer look, getting bopped on the snout with a plastic teething toy for his trouble. He and Scarlet had a bet going on when the kiddo's first tooth would make its entrance. If today was indeed the day, then that put Wolf's guess squarely in the winning range. He extended a finger and gently nudged Missy's upper lip upwards to expose her gums. There it was, a single flash of white against an expanse of white, but…Wolf's heart seized in his chest.

It wasn't the tiny, round front incisor the baby books had told them to expect. A single, glaringly white canine protruded from her upper gum, short, as it likely hadn't poked entirely through yet, but tapering to a sharp, vicious point. Gleaming in the dusky evening light. More fang than tooth. More wolf than human.

Just like him.

Missy gurgled merrily, discarding the toy in favor of gumming his finger. Wolf just sagged back into his chair, somehow both panicked and numb simultaneously. They'd known shortly after she was born that she'd most certainly inherited his voracious appetite, but that could hardly have been taken as an indicator of wolfish things to come. There was her mop of unbearably thick, reddish hair, but Scarlet's hair was thick, too. No warnings there, either. But this…the fangs were unmistakable. Missy was going to be like him.

Wolf blew out a shaky sigh, both of his legs starting to bounce in a frenetic rhythm. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't to even be _possible_ for this to happen. Inheriting his problems, his _curse_ , was something he would never wish on anyone, something he had hoped against hope would never happen…Yet here it was, happening right in front of him.

"Ze'ev? Is Missy still awake? That store downtown had those teething cookies she likes in, and…" The front door banged and Scarlet's voice carried through the front room and the hall separating it from the kitchen until she appeared in the doorway, face flushed from the chilly evening air and a handful of shopping bags dangling from one hand. Her bright smile waned at the expression on his face, eyes snapping between him and Missy. "What's wrong?"

"Teeth." He whispered, gently extracting his finger from Missy's stubborn jaws. Scarlet arched a brow at him and dropped her bags as she moved closer. Wolf slumped forward, resting his elbows on the table and drumming his fingers on the hardwood as a thousand scenarios rolled across his mind. Schoolyard bullies with taunting laughs. Bitter Earthens with memories of a savage war. Superior Lunars with smug smirks. With his genetics, she'd encounter them all someday.

"Already? Guess that means you won the…" Scarlet brightened, moving to tickle Missy's ribs until she grinned broadly, exposing the infamous tooth. Scarlet stilled, eyes widening. "…bet."

"If she inherited that, then it won't be all she inherits." The muscles that ached from being too much for the human frame that carried them. The enhanced senses that could nearly drive him crazy with the overload of scents in a crowd or the sheer volume of a busy tavern. The violent urges that made him wonder how much of himself was still human and how much had been stolen from him.

"Huh." Scarlet fell silent for a moment, studying the tiny, pointy problem with pursed lips and furrowed brow. Missy's happy little sounds and the steady drip of the faucet Wolf had yet to fix the only sounds in the room. Scarlet finally brushed a hand over Missy's auburn curls and rose to lean against Wolf's chair, slender arms circling around his neck. "Well, if she does, she'll have a good example to follow while she figures out how to handle it." She pressed a kiss to the scars along his jaw. "The _best_ example."


	3. Soldiers

**AN: As requested by mettatons-hips. Just fyi, these are in no particular order. Missy is about four in this chapter.**

There were many things that scared Ze'ev Kesley. The nightmares of blood and laboratories that tore him from sleep every so often. Scarlet, when she was so angry that her eyes sparked. That one particular cow that always, _always_ managed to kick him no matter how fast he dodged during milking. But the one thing that frightened him above all else was…a phantom. The faint ghost of a scent that floated through his nostrils from time to time, never quite enough to confirm and never quite close enough to follow, but just enough to worry him. A heavy, musky odor, tempered by hints of piney wood and metallic tang of blood. Not quite wolf, not quite man. _His_ scent. Or at least the scent of someone like him.

There were only a few left on Earth that he knew of. A few other wolf soldiers who had found they liked the wild spaces Earth had to offer over the restrictiveness of Luna and chosen to immigrate following the revolution…and others who had refused to give up the life of blood and death and carnage they had been fitted for. The former had settled into life on Earth well enough, though they kept well away from its Earthen inhabitants, while the latter—the unfortunate majority—still headlined the newsfeeds with brutal attacks from time to time. Wolf had no way of telling which was which by the scent.

And, while it always raised the hairs on the back of his neck when he caught a whiff of a fellow wolf soldier while out in the village or working with the androids in the fields, it didn't turn his blood cold like it did now. The only time it _did_ concern him was when Scarlet and Missy were with him because it meant that they were in the vicinity of something he might or might not be able to protect them from. And it concerned him now, because he was working in the farmhouse kitchen, while Missy was playing in the yard outside _, alone_ , and Scarlet was washing the hover, _alone_. Alone with the source of that scent.

"Missy!" Wolf barely heard the crash of the pan he had dropped as he slammed through the back door and tore out into the yard where she had been rolling in the grass a few minutes earlier. He turned in the direction of the hangar and bellowed again, tone going a touch more frantic. "Scarlet!"

All three scents were fresh, strong over the muddle of farm smells, but difficult to isolate. Scarlet's was still drifting from the broad doors of the hangar—as was a stream of muffled French swearing…something about making her spill the rinse water—while the other two seemed to be wafting from the woodlot sprawling along the back fence. Wolf let out a huff and burst into a sprint. Of course it was the woods. Missy loved them. So did he. And so, most likely, did the other soldier.

He leapt over the low wooden fence without breaking stride and settled into a silent, easy run with his nose to the wind to better trace both scents. He tried to focus on the tracking. On the running. On anything but the possibility of arriving too late.

Wolf burst into a clearing-Missy's clearing, they called it, since the kid found every opportunity she could to sneak off to it- panting hard. She was there, cross-legged in the tall grass and smiling up into the face of every nightmare Wolf had ever had. There was no fear in her eyes. Why should there be when the creature in front of her was so like her own father? She giggled and reached up a chubby hand to wave hello. The wolf soldier, a few inches taller than Wolf himself, but with a gaunt, underfed look about his wiry frame, was staring down at the child. His head was cocked, eyes narrowed with curiosity. His lips parted as if to speak, revealing the familiar long, gleaming fangs, and he lifted one clawed hand to stretch it toward Missy. Wolf didn't let him get any further, spurred by a stab of panic in his side as he barreled into the other man at a dead run.

They went down hard, slamming into the grass in a snarling tangle of fur and claws and teeth. The other man was faster than Wolf, his strikes like lightening against the reflexes made rusty by Wolf's years of domesticity, but Wolf hit harder thanks to the corded muscles afforded him by farm work. Missy shrieked and skittered out of the way of the flailing limbs and snapping jaws. An instant later, and Wolf had the trespasser pinned.

A sharp report boomed from behind them. Wolf turned his head a fraction of an inch to catch a glimpse of Scarlet standing with a hand tight on Missy's shoulder and her gun pointed skyward, still smoking from the warning shot. She'd taken to carrying one all the time after they returned to Earth, and Wolf had been more than happy that she was that much safer. He was even happier about it now. His grip loosened unconsciously at the rush of relief and got a sucker punch in the jaw for the mistake. The man beneath him slithered away, scrambling to his feet and loping into the shadows of the forest. Wolf rolled onto his back, rubbing his jaw as he stared in the direction the man had gone. That was…unusual. He briefly considered lunging after the other man, but the sound of Scarlet striding across the clearing with Missy in tow stopped him.

"Are you alright?" Scarlet holstered her pistol, sharp eyes flicking between him and the woods as she offered him a hand up. She promptly flung an arm around his waist as he staggered to his feet and hugged Missy closer, drawing the three of them into a tight knot. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest as they leaned on one another, and shifted forward to brush a shaky kiss to her forehead. Apparently, it had dredged up bad memories for the both of them.

"Fine." Wolf breathed, wrapping his arms around Missy and Scarlet as his bunched muscles went loose again. He was fine. They were fine. Even the other soldier—with the possible exception of a few scratches—was fine. They had been lucky.

"Daddy? Why did you hit him?" Missy, the only calm one of the trio, had curled both arms around his leg since that was as high as she could reach and now stared up at him with wide, inquisitive green eyes. Wolf brushed a hand over her bushy mop of auburn hair, swallowing the lump of relief in his throat. At least she wasn't frightened. He'd been afraid of that, given that she'd never seen the ferocious side of him before now, let alone at such close range. "He was like us."

"That's the problem, pup." Like them, indeed. How could one be sure? He looked down at his own clawed fingers, resting tenderly on his daughter's curls. Even if he _was_ like them, Wolf barely trusted himself, let alone another, less invested, soldier. Wolf glanced up at the tree line again, wondering again whether he should've followed the other man or not. Perhaps they could have…talked. Or perhaps he would've torn Wolf's throat out. It was a gamble he wouldn't take with his family. At least not yet, when the mental scars of the revolution had only begun to fade. Maybe someday, but not yet. "That's the problem."


End file.
